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Falling Like the Colored Leaves, part one

It was madness. The Elvenking closed his eyes for a brief moment and shuddered, drawing up his robes around his shoulders more tightly. It was utter madness.

"I know you are there." He moved to the other end of the hall. He always knew when she was near. It was as natural as breathing – in and out – he knew precisely when Tauriel entered a room and when she left it – in and out. He felt how far from him she stood, and when she watched him. These moments were sparse and lasted only a second, though. He made sure to know if she watched someone else, too – and how long her eyes stayed trained on them and who they were. It interested him greatly who had caught her attention, especially if it was a male.

"Why do you linger in the shadows?" Thranduil turned and faced the corridor.

"I was coming to report to you." Tauriel answered, her restless movements betraying her calm facade. She was agitated and she refused to meet his gaze for more than a split of a second. She never did and Thranduil wondered if she was afraid of what she saw in his eyes – if he hadn't managed to conceal what could be reflecting there – or if she thought it to be a sign of the respect she was supposed to show to him.

Either possibility infuriated him nonetheless. His weaknesses pained him and her defiance could not be masked by any false respectfulness.

"I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed not two moons past," he said airily.

Tauriel gazed at him angrily and started pacing in order to avoid looking at him altogether. It was a clever move – under any other circumstance he could assume it was due to her agitation, not the unwillingness to look his way. Oh, Thranduil was very well aware of how she despised him and it never failed to bring a small smile to his lips.

"We cleared the forest as ordered, my lord. But more spiders keep coming up from the South. They are spawning in the ruins of Dol Guldur. If we could kill them at their source…"

The bitter smile graced his lips once more and disappeared before she could see.

"That fortress lies beyond our borders." Thranduil couldn't care less but he knew she did. "Keep our lands clear of those foul creatures. That is your task."

"And when we drive them off, what then?" She glanced at him. "Will they not spread to other lands?"

"Other lands are not my concern." That answer would give him her full attention, surely. And the she-elf did not disappoint him.

Tauriel stood still for a moment, disbelief reflecting in her open face. She was so young, so easy to read. Then the anger came, her inner fire – brighter than anything he had ever seen – shimmering in her green eyes. She felt betrayed by his decision, but Thranduil was betrayed by the continuous disobedience she had kept showing.

"The fortunes of the world will rise and fall. But here in this kingdom, we will endure."

The fire, her fire, he welcomed it. Let it burn him, let it consume him. It was all he would ever get from the Captain, it was the only emotion directed solely on him, and the only part of Tauriel he could claim as his. The pain caused by the knowledge could be compared to the burning agony he had felt for the first time so long ago in the North. There was just one difference between these two kinds of burning. The scars left from his encounters with the great serpents were cold and biting like the most severe winter frosts, and it left him dead and unfeeling inside just like the flesh of his left face was dead and numb on the outside. The scar left from Tauriel's fire was hot, made his blood boil and his heart beat.

It made him feel alive. It drove him insane.

Turning away, he was unable to watch her go. Then the almighty ruler of Mirkwood decided he was not willing to part with her just yet, not without inflicting a little bit of the hurt she always left in her wake.

"Legolas said you fought well today."

Tauriel stopped and half-turned to him, smiling softly. That smile, while very pleasing to Thranduil's eyes, were not meant for him. It stung and in response, his smile grew wicked. "He has grown very fond of you."

"I assure you, my lord… Legolas thinks of me as no more than a captain of the guard." Tauriel spluttered, embarrassed and slightly anxious – as she should be. All fear the temper of the King.

"Perhaps he did once." Sickly satisfied, Thranduil moved towards her, fascinated by the worried expression on her face. She feared his reaction, that much was true, however it was not for the reasons he wished it to be. She would never suspect, never have a hint of his emotions. Remembering himself, Thranduil sneered and changed direction. "Now I am not so sure."

He turned his back to her so Tauriel could not have the chance to see his face. While he did like to tease her, to make her hurt – to a certain degree – he did not wish to scare the poor elleth too much, or to make her hate him completely. He could very well fade should that be the case. He poured himself a goblet of wine, even thought it was too early to drink.

"I do not think you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly Silvan Elf." She choked out, now truly upset.

"No, you are right. I would not." He wouldn't have allowed it even if they both loved each other dearly. Thranduil knew that she did not love his son even if Legolas admired her almost as desperately as Thranduil himself. "Still, he cares about you."

Thranduil wondered what could be more painful. Having part of her heart as a token of friendship, or having none of it? And Tauriel herself! She was observant and his son was so very obvious in his affections. She must know what the Prince felt, and it must pain her also.

"Do not give him hope where there is none." Thranduil advised, suddenly tired. For the remainder of the day, he felt burnt out. He would require more of Tauriel's spark another day.

AN: As a non-native speaker, I have to thank my gracious beta ShadowLink5 for the help. It's very much appreciated :)